


strange perfections

by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dogs, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesstfrancis/pseuds/acetheticallyy
Summary: There's a bedraggled little mutt shivering next to the dirty dishes in his sink. She's cuter than she looks.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 24
Kudos: 130





	strange perfections

**Author's Note:**

> when I was drafting 'wouldn't it be nice' last year, I had this idea for a scene where martin found a stray dog and convinced jon to let it live with him. that obviously didn't make it into the final cut, but the idea stuck with me long enough that now here we are! takes place in some nebulous universe where everyone is happy and their biggest worry is whether or not a stray gets mud all over their sweater.
> 
> and that's really it. hope u have fun!

Jon notices two things about his boyfriend when he shows up that night: the first being that he is soaking wet, the second being that he has a wiggling little _something_ tucked inside his coat and that wiggling little something is also dripping water all over his floor.

One thing at a time, though. Jon quickly pops into the bathroom to grab a couple towels and offers up their assistance.

“So who’s joining us this evening?”

Martin takes one of the towels that’s being extended to him with a sheepish twist of his lips. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t have noticed that yet.”

“Yes, you were doing _such_ a good job at hiding it that I cannot at all see its tail peeking out of the bottom of your coat.” The tail begins to wag, almost as if on cue. Jon gestures towards it. “Well, give it here. This other towel’s for them.”

The dog—if you can call it that—that emerges from inside Martin’s coat is a scraggly little thing. Wispy white fur sticking up in all directions with the rain, water dripping from extra long whiskers that give it the illusion of facial hair. Mud is clumped together in its paws, trailing up until it creates a fine gradient from brown to dusty white along its legs, which—yeah, getting a closer look at the dark spot on Martin’s once pristine light pink sweater, that should probably get taken care of pretty quickly.

“Here,” Jon says, reaching for the little ball of fluff and wrapping it securely in the towel, “you go change.”

Martin quirks a brow in question before looking down and catching a glance of the mud covering much of the bottom of his sweater. He swipes at it a bit, pulling a face when it doesn’t immediately brush off onto the floor. “Right. I’ll be back. You’re okay with her on your own?”

Jon rolls his eyes. He may prefer cats but it’s not like he doesn’t know how to handle a dog. “Yes, we’ll be fine.” The dog in question wriggles herself upright until she gets enough leeway to stretch herself upwards and stick her nose right in Jon’s ear. “See? Friends already.”

“Watch _your_ clothes, now,” Martin says, catching an errant paw and tucking it back into the towel before it can land a stain on Jon’s collar. “Might want to give her a rinse just so she doesn’t track dirt around the place, I’ll come help you in a minute.” He leans in to press a kiss against Jon’s jaw, neatly dodging out of the way when the dog swings around in his direction, presumably to nose around at his face as well. “When we’re both clean, sweetheart,” he says in a low tone, playfully scrunching his nose at the dog in Jon’s arms before turning into the bedroom to grab a change of clothes. Jon melts a little, taking a moment to stare after him with an embarrassingly lovestruck smile on his face.

Martin _does_ have a habit of making friends everywhere he goes, it should come as no surprise that animals aren’t any different. Even scraggly, sopping wet mutts covered in mud are met with a warm grin and a soft spoken “sweetheart,” just like they’ve been friends for years.

There are a few dishes in the sink when Jon takes the squirming pup in his arms into the kitchen for a clean-up and he swaps one for the other, putting the mismatched bowls and cutlery on the counter for the time being. As soon as the dog is freed from her cotton prison, she shakes out her fur. And you wouldn’t think a dog that small could fling that much water just by shaking out her coat, but evidently all that scraggly fur can hold a _lot_.

Rainwater soaks into Jon’s collar before he can reach a hand out to still the dog in his sink, making the fabric stick against his collarbone. He pulls the collar away from his neck with his free hand, tugging on it in small pulses like the small amount of air blowing underneath it with the motion is at all capable of getting it to dry quickly. The dog whines for his attention, and he turns. “Yeah,” he says, “not cutting it, is it?” She shivers in response.

“Of course, very silly of me.” He leans in closer to turn on the water, getting it just warm enough. “ _You_ have much more water all over you, don’t you? I’m sorry to tell you I’ll need to add more to that, but at least it won’t be cold.” Predictably, the dog scrabbles at the sides of the sink, trying to escape as soon as the water hits her fur. “I know, I know.” Jon _does_ feel silly, making gentle shushing noises at the stray dog shivering in his sink, but either the noise or the gentle scratching at her neck or some combination of the two gets her to stop trying to jump to the ground, so whose business is it how silly it looks, really. “Compromise?” he asks, still holding her in place. He lifts her up by her front paws. “If you stand really nicely for me, just like this—” her paws are propped against the edge of the sink “—it’ll be over so quickly, you won’t even notice you’re already dry afterwards.”

Whether the dog understands him or not, she stays put when Jon slowly moves his hands away to reach for the spray nozzle again. “Wonderful.” The dog wags her tail at the praise, shaking with the effort it takes to keep herself in that position even with her excitement. She really is quite cute, isn’t she? He can see why Martin brought her home.

“See? Not so bad, is it. Just a quick rinse to get some dirt off you and we’ll get you a nice warm towel, I promise.”

A giggle comes from just behind his shoulder. Jon glances back to see Martin leaning against the doorway, hand covering his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Yes, hilarious, I’m bartering with a dog smaller than my forearm.”

Martin takes the comment as invitation to join them, sidling up next to Jon and leaning in for a kiss that Jon happily obliges. “It’s _cute_ ,” he insists. “She’s maybe eight pounds, including the weight of the water she’s holding in her fur, and you’re talking to her like you’re negotiating with a salesperson.”

Jon huffs out a laugh. “Well, she is,” he says, playing along. As he turns his attention to scrubbing the dirt away from her paws, she stares up at him like she knows they’re talking about her. “Aren’t you? A very good salesperson, I’d say.”

“Oh really? What’s she selling you on?”

In response, Jon shrugs.

Look. He prefers cats. But he’s not _immune_.

“Jon?”

“Hm?”

“You want to keep the dog, don’t you?”

Jon doesn’t miss the teasing note in Martin’s voice. He doesn’t give it the satisfaction of a response, either.

“Mhm,” Martin continues. “You think she’s cute.”

“Never said that.”

“Didn’t have to. You keep making these little kissing noises to get her attention any time she ducks her head.”

“Just making sure she doesn’t get water in her ears,” Jon insists, catching himself as he’s about to make another one of those aforementioned kissing noises and deciding instead to tilt her snout upward with his knuckles. “Don’t want her to be uncomfortable, you know? She was already freezing.”

Martin drops it, for a moment, when Jon shuts the water off. He presses a fresh towel into Jon’s arms. “Your nice warm towel,” he says, putting on a frighteningly accurate imitation of Jon’s voice.

Jon narrows his eyes as he accepts the towel, but there’s not heat behind it. He gathers up the dog and rubs the towel gently over her ears a couple times before he speaks again. “ _You_ brought her here, you know.”

“Yes, and I thought you’d assume I was keeping her at my place.”

“Martin, I know your building doesn’t allow pets.”

Martin purses his lips like he’s been caught. “Right, see, I was hoping you’d forgotten. Because then I could’ve played this whole ‘oh, I wish I could keep her, Jon, but my landlord is just being _impossible_ ’ thing, you know?”

“I’ve never forgotten a single thing about you,” Jon says, easy as anything. The freckles at the tip of Martin’s nose begin to disappear as his skin darkens there. “And I _know_ you’ve already fallen halfway in love with her.”

“I wouldn’t say _that_ , I mean if you don’t want to keep her here, I could—”

“ _When we’re both clean, sweetheart_ ,” Jon intones, cutting him off. “I know you, Martin.”

“ _Well_ ,” Martin drawls, reaching for the dog—now only slightly damp—and pulling her into his arms. Jon tries not to feel like he’s suffered some sort of loss. “This _is_ your flat. I’m still not going to make you do something you’re not up for, so it is up to you. Don’t decide anything on my account.”

Jon shuffles close, until the dog is cuddled between the two of them, wagging her tail and scrabbling back and forth as she tries to decide who to give the most attention to. He dodges a playful nip at his jaw as he leans forward to press his lips against Martin’s chin. “I always decide things on your account,” he says. Before Martin can argue, he stretches up on his toes to land a kiss at the corner of his mouth as a distraction. “ _But_ ,” he continues. “You said it yourself, I do think she’s cute. Wouldn’t mind keeping her around.”

Martin brightens, maneuvering around the paws trying to grab at his face to catch Jon in a real kiss. “Really?”

Jon shrugs, betraying his feigned nonchalance by letting the dog catch his thumb between her teeth and gasping with exaggerated surprise when she does. “Might be nice to have her around. Besides, I feel like it means you’ll be here even more than usual and for _some reason_ , that really appeals to me.”

That pretty little flush rises over Martin’s cheeks again, and he ducks his head to hide it in the dog’s fur. Jon just grabs at his waist, tugging him closer until he can brush his lips over the high points of his cheeks where the heat settles. “You’re sure?” Martin asks.

And the answer to that question was _never_ in doubt, not to Jon. “Always.”

Martin playfully scoffs, catching his eagerness to answer. He nudges at Jon’s shoulder with his own. “Not about _me_.”

“It’s—”

“ _Always about me_ , yes, yes, I get it, you’re a horrible romantic,” Martin laughs. “The dog, Jon. You’re sure about the dog?”

The dog looks up at him then, eyes wide and sparkling like she’s pleading. Salesperson, indeed. “Yes. Absolutely sure.” She springs at him when he answers, startling Martin enough that he can’t quite keep his hold on her, and Jon barely has the presence of mind to release his grip on Martin’s waist fast enough to catch her under the front legs as she tries to hang around his shoulders. Once she’s steady, she licks at his neck and he pretends not to notice.

Martin laughs again, scratching his fingers gently through Jon’s hair. Jon melts into it, even as the dog follows his movement and tries to claim Martin’s attention for herself. She loses her focus quickly, choosing instead to tangle herself in the ends of Jon’s hair and biting at the strands when it proves itself to be an interesting plaything. He gently pulls her away when she tugs too hard and starts to scratch behind her ears in apology.

“You know,” Jon says slowly. There is just _one thing_ he’s been thinking of since he’d decided to let the dog stick around. Very small, really. It’s just that— “I think she might miss you if you’re over at your place. She _did_ find you first, what’s she going to do when you leave?”

“I’m over here all the time anyway, she’ll hardly notice.” As he speaks, though, Jon can tell that Martin is slowly understanding what he means.

“You could be here _all_ the time, all the time,” Jon says, clarifying so that he can’t be misunderstood. “You know, like…all the time.”

The hand in Jon’s hair slides down to curve around his jaw, tilting his head up so that Martin can look at him directly. “Are you—are you asking me to move in with you?” His eyes are wide when he asks, bright. Like he can’t quite believe his luck. _Jon_ can’t quite believe his luck, that someone could feel that way about _him_. Someone like Martin, even.

“I mean, if you want to,” Jon answers, playing it off. “It would be nice, I think.”

Martin’s smile grows as he leans into his teasing. “Yeah? Nice?”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I love you, too.”

There’s a snuffling coming from between them, and they both look down to see the dog perched precariously with her front half leaning on Jon’s shoulder and her back half resting against the crook of his elbow. Her nose twitches as she settles, quickly falling fast asleep.

“Oh my god,” Martin whispers, voice full of barely restrained glee. He nudges against her backside to settle her more comfortably in Jon’s arms, so she doesn’t slip out of place. Her ears flick in his direction, but it’s the only reaction she gives before tucking her nose under the collar of Jon’s shirt and letting out a sigh much bigger than she is.

“I’m going to be stuck like this for a minute, aren’t I?” Jon asks. Standing in front of his dirty, mismatched dishes, sink dusted with steadily drying mud, dog draped across his front in what he could only imagine was the most uncomfortable position possible.

“You _can_ set her down, you know,” Martin laughs.

Jon looks at him like he’s lost his head, only half joking. “While she’s _asleep_?”

“She’s a _dog_ , Jon, she’ll forgive you.”

“I’m not building our relationship on betrayal, Martin.”

Martin shakes his head, all fondness. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Me? You asked me to parent a dog with you before you even asked me to move in.”

“Well!” The word comes out as a squeak, enough to disturb the dog from her sleep. Martin cringes, a little, sweeping a gentle hand over her head to settle her before he continues. This time, his voice is softer. “I always thought when we moved in, it would be here, because that’s where we usually _are_. And this _is_ your flat, so. I didn’t really think it was fair for me to ask.”

“So you thought having the dog ask for you was a better move?”

Martin flicks at his shoulder, lifting the dog out of Jon’s arms with his other hand as he does. “It _did_ work,” he insists. “You can’t argue with something if it gets you results like that.”

“ _I’m_ certainly not arguing.” Jon tries to make the retort sound coy, teasing. Instead it just comes out soppier than ever. He’s not sure he minds.

It makes Martin’s nose twitch, cracking his playful façade until he melts into a genuine, loving smile. “You really are adorable.”

And it is _really_ unfair that Martin’s taken the dog from him, stealing away his chance to hide his face in her fur. “You only have a month left on your lease, right?” he asks, ignoring the way the heat rises to his cheeks as Martin just keeps _staring_. “We could start packing your things this weekend. If you want.”

Martin’s deciding whether or not he wants to tease him more, Jon can tell. He seems to settle on just poking at his cheeks instead, shifting the dog’s weight into one arm. “Sounds great, love.” He rocks the dog a bit in his arms, looking over Jon’s shoulder at the mess still around the sink. “What do you say we save this for later, too? I’ll take care of this in the morning.” Jon starts to open his mouth to speak, but Martin shakes his head before he can. “No, you can’t insist on cleaning up all the messes anymore, I live here now. I’ll take care of it, come on. I think we should take cues from the little one here and relax for a bit.”

It’s hard to argue with Martin, when he puts it like that. _I live here now_.

He does. He really does. And _god_ , Jon just loves him. It’s really all the convincing he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone thanks once again for reading my mindless self indulgence! title was borrowed from a hozier song ('someone new'), business as usual.
> 
> if u liked it, please tell me why or share it with your friends or just stare at the web page longingly before closing out your browser and immediately re-opening it like I do sometimes. and remember to catch me on tumblr/twitter at @judesstfrancis and @acetheticallyy, respectively!


End file.
